


Odette and Agape

by crackedipad



Series: Yuri!!! On Ballet [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ballet AU, Character Study, During Episode 3, i spent three weeks on this, minor viktuuri, sort of angst, swan lake AU, y'all i spell viktor with a k but i gotta conform to the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8661085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackedipad/pseuds/crackedipad
Summary: “Why do you need me to tell you? Don’t you have your goddamned katsudon?”“H-Hey don’t say it like that! You’re making me feel embarrassed…”“I would be too if my inspiration for seduction was a pork bowl.” Yuri Plisetsky glided around the stage, like a swan through the waters. His normally sour face was replaced with an expression showing his grief, his love, and his loss as the Swan Queen. Yuri was not the type to lose, and even if it meant dancing the role of a prima ballerina, he might as well embody one.[The Ballet/Swan Lake AU that I asked for]





	

The spotlight shone on him, and Yuri Plisetsky surrendered himself to Odette’s variation.

 

Arms stretched outward, wide and fleeting to resemble a swan’s wings as his shoulder blades stretched closer to each other, his feet began gliding through the polished wood stage. The frilling feathers of his costume around his wrists, waist, and shoulders accented his figure during the attitudes, his leg lifted high from the ground. His hair was let down freely, not constrained by a bun or a side braid. His costume was shimmering from the crystals decorating his sleeves and torso, his body clothed in white and slivers of silver, and the wide feathered tutu fitted on his hips drew the attention from all around him with each and every turn. The audience could only watch as they were enraptured by his dance in her lament, romance, and hope.

  
  


"Act 2 is where Odette speaks of the curse cast on her and other swans by the cruel Von Rothbart. With Prince Siegfried, they both pledge their unconditional love to marry and break the spell," Viktor explained to the two Yuris inside the dance studio of Minako Okukawa. His back was casually leaning on the barre behind him, arms crossed with the stereo remote in his left hand. Music poured out of the speakers, surrounding the three dancers with the smooth timbre of the strings and woodwinds. The two Yuris stood side by side a few feet away from him, listening intently to the recognizable piece. After all, it came from one of the most famous ballet productions in the world.

 

Viktor paused the arrangement. “And this is Act 3, where Prince Siegfried’s mother holds a ball in search of his bride. The Prince is uninterested, until the arrival of Odette who was, in fact, Von Rothbart’s daughter Odile in disguise,” Viktor waved the stereo remote in his hand with a flourish as he spoke. “Odile seduces Siegfried, making him unfaithful to Odette, under the orders of her father for Odette to remain a swan forever.” He plays the undoubtedly familiar music of the pas de deux coda between Siegfried and Odile.

 

“You two have never been in a Swan Lake production, right? You two had only danced the prince’s variation in competition?” The two nodded. Viktor clapped his hands together, obviously pleased. “Great! Then this would be good for your first time.”

 

“Swan Lake…” Yuuri murmured to himself, a lightbulb flickering on inside his head. “Ah, Viktor!” His raised voice caught Viktor’s attention. “You played Prince Siegfried in the past,” Yuuri realized, remembering the late nights he spent rewatching Viktor’s performances as the prince again and again during his older teen years.

 

Viktor brightened up. “Oh? I’m flattered that you have kept track of my career, Yuuri,” Viktor was amused and no doubt happy that Yuuri had known, and the poor man’s cheeks were colored slightly pink from embarrassment.

 

“A-ah it’s n-not really like that!” He shook his head violently as he raised his hands up in defense, his slight pink turning redder with every word. “It w-was just one of your more famous performances! I-It’s impossible for me not to h-hear of it!” He desperately tried to cover himself up, as if he hadn't spent hours pouring over photo collections of Viktor’s renditions as Prince Siegfried, collecting the exclusive DVDs of the productions the Russian danseur took part of. Viktor snickered at Yuuri’s actions, gazing at him with open fondness.

 

The other Yuri scoffed. Seriously, he couldn't stand watching that awkward fatso ramble out incomprehensible stutters like a five-year-old, and trip over thin air for Viktor to notice him. Nothing at all about Yuuri Katsuki was unique. He wasn’t attractive, his eyesight was terrible, and not to mention his form was always messy and uncoordinated. He did not belong in the world of professional ballet.

 

But he did not need to belong for Viktor to notice him or do anything for that matter other than stand around and stammer all day, and that pissed off Yuri more than anything that you can imagine. The most average and sub-par danseur in the world has Viktor Nikiforov trailing after him like a lovesick poodle.

 

Yuri doesn't understand why Viktor left him and Yakov behind in Russia. They were in the middle of conceptualizing a production for Yuri’s non-competitive debut that Viktor was supposed to be choreographing. While Viktor was the principal dancer of their company, he had explicitly promised Yuri that his official debut production would be personally choreographed by him. But, after all of the long practices he had put into preparing for his new role, Yuri’s hopes were crushed after seeing that crappy Instagram photo.

 

'Hasetsu Castle! #Ninja #ViktorNikiforov #YuriKatsuki #Japan #NoRegrets #lolbyeYakov'

 

What an asshole.

 

_ It wasn't even a good picture, _ he had cursed as he boarded his flight.  _ With his shit-eating grin and his shit-eating dog and that shitty Asian castle and _

 

_ damn you Viktor you fucking dumbass I would fucking murder you the second I touch down at Japan you punk ass bitch- _

 

Viktor Nikiforov was a fucking liar who didn’t even remember a bit of the promise he made to him. It's all Viktor's fault that he is stuck in a foreign country until this stupid "competition" is finished. It's all Viktor's fault for being selfish and flying far away from St. Petersburg to teach some washed-up dancer new party tricks.

 

He might as well blame the said washed-up dancer for his amateur viral dance cover too. Nonetheless, it was all Viktor’s fault as well for thinking blindly and hauling his ass all the way to Japan. That asshole probably didn't want to teach anyway; Yuri had figured that all his senior wanted to do was get into Katsuki’s pants under the guise of “being his instructor”.

 

“One of you would dance Act 2 as Odette, and one of you would dance Act 3 as Odile! Minako-san is going to lend her dancers for us so do not worry about the pas de deux and who you would be dancing with. Sounds good?” Viktor proposed, obviously excited about what was to unfold in the “Swan Hot Springs” recital-like competition. Minako Okukawa’s ballet company was small, but Viktor had faith that the ex-ballerina had enough dancers and production hands for the competition to take place.

 

“W-Wait, Viktor! Are we really going to dance the female roles?” Yuuri asked incredulously, his glasses slipping slightly from the bridge of his nose at the surprise.

 

“Well it’s not like there are two main princes,” Viktor explained as if it was to be obvious. “There shouldn’t be a problem with it! Unless, neither of you wants me to choreograph for you,” he grinned mischievously, letting his words hang thick in the air so as for both of them to know that he was serious.

 

Yuri did not find this plan hard to believe. Of course, that wasn't an odd move on the man’s part. Viktor lived and breathed unconventionality, moves and ideas that caught you where you least expect it to. If it meant dancing a part meant for a prima ballerina then he’ll do whatever it takes to embody one. “Fine, whatever, but I’m getting Odile. I can’t stand the lovey dovey crap Odette dances.”

 

The Japanese danseur sucked in a breath, exhaling shakily afterward. He too knew that he was not backing out now. “I’ll do it,” he took a step forward, determined. “And I’ll take on Odette.”

 

“Oh wait, hold on hold on. I will be the one assigning who plays who.”  _ So what?  _ Yuri thought, irritated, as Viktor stopped them from saying anything further. They already knew the assignments.  _ It’s so painfully obvious who is right for which role.  _ “Yurio would play Odette in Act 2, and Yuuri would play Odile!” Viktor pointed at each of them per name he spoke with a cheerful demeanor, smiling wide as if to say  _ ‘Surprise!’ _

 

_ … _ Fuck it. When he is going to win, he’ll drag that aging jerk personally by the hair to the next plane home.

  
  
  


The dance continued on, the pure white of his costume was glowing under the stage lights. Yuri took in deep breaths, making sure that he wouldn’t tense up too much. All eyes were captivated by his angelic stage presence and controlled yet feminine movements. As he pirouetted, he caught sight of Viktor at the side, watching his performance intently. From Viktor’s gaze, Yuri knew that he was studying his movements, and Yuri aimed to not disappoint. But, he spotted the slight crinkle between Viktor’s furrowed eyebrows which Yuri could not miss from a mile away. He knew that look, it was as if Viktor was searching for something missing.  _ Something missing? _

 

Shit, he forgot.

 

Yuri did not dare let a single misstep occur when the sheer brutality of what he remembered came to him and continued on as normal. His body was unfazed, but inside he was reeling from the sheer idiocy crashing down on him for forgetting one gravely important thought.

  
  


_ “But Yuri, who is Odette to you?” Viktor had asked him during their practice. Yuri breathed heavily, finishing the final piqué turns of what he practiced before standing still. _

 

_ “Does it matter?” _

 

_ “Of course it does,” Viktor scolded lightheartedly. “Your form has been suffering from it, you know? I did not feel any of the emotion Odette is supposed to feel in the dance.”  _

_ Viktor shook his head in disappointment. “You aren’t doing a very good job at the moment.” _

 

_ Yuri grumbled. “Then who is Odette to you, huh?!” _

 

_ “Why should I know? I’m not the one dancing next week. Haha, you really are funny, Yurio!” _

 

_ Yuri glared at Viktor openly. “Stop treating this as a joke, and don’t you dare call me that! I’m going to run through the variation again.” _

 

_ “No, stop practicing it for the day. Find the partner Minako-san hired for you and come back here to work on the pas de deux.” That ended their brief conversation. “But first, we need a temple~” Or not. _

 

Dancers had to be good actors too, Yuri had guessed that’s what Viktor meant, that he was only moving based on the choreography but not based on the emotion Odette felt in the dance. There, that was simple enough. Viktor didn’t have to spout out some vague crap about who Odette meant to him.

 

But, who was Odette? Yuri had thought of it long and hard, because even if Viktor wasn’t  exactly a favorite person of his, the man still knew what he talked about and what he was doing concerning ballet. Yuri knew her character background and what every dance meant, shouldn’t that be enough for him? Well clearly, it wasn’t. 

 

Odette. Who was she?  _ What was she? _

 

Unconditional love, that’s what she was. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out; it wasn’t a complex algorithm.

  
  


_ Unconditional love. Unconditional love. Unconditional love. _

 

He chanted as he struck an arabesque. His form was clean, good. His en pointes were flawless. His arms continued flowing through the air as his wings. He couldn’t believe he forgot to think about it. He had to incorporate it in the dance now before it was too late.

  
  


_ What is Odette to me?  _ He had thought before absentmindedly when he was pelted from above by the waterfall after another ‘failed’ practice.

 

What  _ was  _ unconditional love to him?

 

It certainly wasn’t some random prince he met in the forest, that’s for sure. God, Odette was so stupid.

 

It certainly wasn’t some cheap rice bowl, he was definitely sure he wasn’t going to stoop to that level of stupidity either.

 

But, it certainly was… it was...

 

_ Grandpa. _

 

* * *

 

“H-Hey Yurio! Don’t walk so fast! You’ll get lost,” Yuuri warned, stumbling after the boy who was taking long strides away from him.

 

“Cut the crap. Let’s just find Viktor before he gets alcohol poisoning.” He quickened his pace, intending to leave the Japanese dancer behind.

 

“He’s just probably drinking away with Minako-sensei, or at one of the ramen stops again,” Yuuri explained with a sigh. Minako wasn’t exactly clear as to where they would meet up, but he knew that they were going to discuss the Swan Hot Springs over a few (or more) drinks of sake. Maybe they were already hitting it up at her snack bar Kachu.

 

“Doesn’t he remember that the competition is tomorrow?” Yuri growled, his hands shoved inside his leopard-print jacket’s pockets as his feet stomped on the pavement. He cursed Viktor to his grave. As always, Viktor was ruining things for him by being a forgetful shithead.

 

The night was getting darker and darker, and the sooner they find Viktor and Minako the better. Yuuri managed to keep up to the teenager, making the two walk side-to-side. He glanced at the boy beside him every minute or so as his thoughts ran around his mind, trying to find what to say. If Yuri noticed the sudden tense attitude of Yuuri, he didn’t say anything and just continued to stare straight ahead. Yuri acted as if he was leading the duo, trying to be a step or two ahead of Yuuri, but the older danseur controlled their direction as he moved around the small town with more familiarity than what Yuri could carry.

 

“Are you okay?” Yuri blinked, turning his head to look at Yuuri who had finally mustered up the courage to figure out what to say.

 

“What’s with that idiot look on your face?” Yuri scrutinized the bespectacled man, his nose scrunching up in disgust.

 

Yuuri felt a need to jump from the tone of the Russian teen. It was hard to be unaffected by his crude and vulgar attitude, especially since the boy was eight years younger than him. “N-nothing,” Yuuri replied, still a little shaken. Relaxing a bit, he continued. “I kind of want to know how you did it,” Yuuri’s reply puzzled the young danseur. “I want to know how you found out who Odette was to you.”

 

“Why do you need me to tell you? Don’t you have your goddamned katsudon?”

 

“H-Hey don’t say it like that! You’re making me feel embarrassed…”

 

“I would be too if my inspiration for seduction was a pork bowl.”

 

Yuuri covered his face, hiding his cringe from the other as he tried to will his blush from growing any brighter. As soon as he calmed himself down, he was quiet for a moment, thinking over what he was about to say again before speaking. “I just, felt as if something was different about you, ever since the waterfall yesterday. You figured it out. You figured out the dance and who Odette is to you,” Yuuri confessed. “I want to be able to improve my dance of Odile, like how you were able to.” His feelings came tumbling out of his mouth. The competition was already tomorrow, and Yuuri was so desperate to find out his true inspiration. He even asked Yuri to guide him through the fouettés earlier in the morning to see if he could draw a new emotion out. Yuuri was struggling, feeling lost from not knowing what else to do and what else to give to his performance.

 

“Why is it such a big deal to you?!” Yuri retorted, glaring directly towards their path. Odette this, Odette that. Can’t he just escape the endless torture of all these people asking him a bunch of bullshit about who the hell Odette was? “That’s not something I could just tell you, idiot. Did you really think I can?” He was already helping Yuuri for Christ’s sake behind Viktor’s back. He shouldn’t expect more. “Odette is whoever to me, and Odile is whoever the fuck you want to you.”

 

The only thing Yuuri could do was a nod, thin-lipped. “I guess that’s true,” Yuuri’s mind was clouded as he analyzed what Yuri had told him. It made sense to him now, that maybe such a powerful inspiration that managed to transform the boy’s white swan performance was something private, only open for Yuri himself. “If it’s something that you can’t explain, then it makes my own inspiration look shallow,” he moaned in despair.

 

“It was already shallow in the first place, katsudon. That’s why I’m going to crush you.”

 

They didn’t find Viktor wherever they went, and Yuuri had received a drunken text from Viktor himself that he was back at the house waiting for him to  _ ‘com e bakc, Yuujri~ I msins u sooo muhhcc  _ (⌯˃̶᷄  ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯) ﾟ ’. He had also received a few more sober texts from Minako saying that their costumes were ready to be looked at.

 

“We better head back,” Yuuri told Yuri, who was earnestly buying a tiger-print pair of gloves at the nearest stall with eyes shining in excitement. Yuuri smiled quietly, realizing just how much of a child Yuri still was, violent tendencies aside. They began walking back, with Yuri cursing Viktor some more for making them wander around aimlessly for him (though a paper bag was held in one hand with his bought gloves packed away inside), and Yuuri was glad that at least the boy saw some sights that could be seen in Hasetsu during their search. Yuuri would suggest giving a proper tour of Hasetsu to him, but he doubted that the boy would care.

 

Yuuri wondered whether he would again see the child-like and vulnerable expression of Yuri when the boy stepped out gingerly from the waterfall. What was he thinking about? What truly was his Odette like?

 

“It’s none of your business, remember that,” Yuri once more shot Yuuri down before the latter tried to bring the previous topic up again. “So stop snooping around for some kind of answer to that.”  _ I’m still trying to think about it too, dumbass. _ Yuri thought to himself. Yuri couldn’t stop thinking about what Yuuri said, however, about his dance improving after that day in the waterfall.  _ Grandpa, was it really because of you? _

  
~~~~

* * *

 

The swans, all of whom ballerinas under Minako’s company, began moving in sync as Yuri struck a final pose ending his variation.  _ Shit,  _ he cursed as he joined the ballerinas.  _ I was too focused on my posture I forgot to think about you, Grandpa. _

 

That’s it. He missed his variation. Viktor would have noticed, he would have noticed that Yuri had forgotten about what it  _ meant _ for him to be Odette.

 

He felt his frustration slowly starting to get ahold of him. He tried to push it down within himself or else he would lose track of the music, or would begin to dance too fast. His gentle, queen-like persona was starting to fade as his forms were slowly beginning to jut out sharply.  _ No no no damn it. Get ahold of yourself.  _ In a flash, he took back and retained the flowing posture of the Swan Queen as if he had never broken it in the first place.

 

His eyes tried to scan the crowd to see if they noticed his sudden shift in performance level, but the stage lights were too bright that they all looked like black silhouettes. His breathing was unsteady and his heart pounded erratically with every step he took, yet he still danced on. He was nearly there, the end of it was so near. He pushed through the stress with that one thought comforting him. His surroundings blurred as he continued to move to the tempo, the only thing clear for him was the un-halting music from the orchestra.

 

The danseur playing Prince Siegfried joined him and the other ballerinas onstage. Yuri inconspicuously gritted his teeth and continued on with the dance, not allowing his feelings take a hold of him. There was still a shot at redemption.

 

He tried to vividly imagine what it had felt like to hold his grandfather’s hand as they walked through the snow that blanketed St. Petersburg in December. His mind remembered the large, aged hand ruffling his blond hair slightly through his fur cap before they started moving away from the ballet studio he practiced at as a child. He could make out the warm, coarse voice brimming with affection calling him “Yuratchka” as Yuri described what it felt like in practice that day. He remembered saying ‘ _ I could dance even better, Grandpa!’ _ as he was promised a warm batch of pirozhkis once they reach home. Well, could he?

  
  


Yuri was lifted up high by the danseur, and struck an arabesque in the air.

 

_ No. _

 

The haunting theme of Swan Lake began playing, as Odette and Prince Siegfried were to pledge their everlasting, unconditional love as the danseur set Yuri down for their goodbye.

 

_ I’m better than that. _

 

The other ballerinas took off to the backstage, as their personas prepared to turn back from their human forms by night to their swan bodies by day.

 

_ I’m better than this. _

 

Von Rothbart made an appearance in the background, sinisterly watching as the fated pair broke from their eager embrace as Odette went to make her own exit, ending the act.

 

_ Why, why wasn’t I able to…? _

 

As soon as Yuri stepped into the backstage himself, he was greeted by an applause from the other dancers and the production crew.

 

“Good job, Yurio! Amazing work! That was your best performance so far!” Yuri turned to see Viktor behind him, clapping his hands and spouting out more congratulations. Yuri’s mouth tasted bitter. His best performance didn’t even show more of what he could do. Viktor must know that. Yuri was ushered back to the center onstage to take a bow, and the crowd gave him a standing ovation. Many threw at him bouquets after bouquets of flowers, tokens of gratitude from them for a wonderful performance.   
  
There was no use in dwelling on his mistakes at the moment. He bowed gracefully, his composure kept as his staged smile dazzled the audience. It was all up to Yuuri Katsuki’s performance now, to see who truly deserves Viktor’s guidance.

 

As he stepped off of the stage once again, the curtains closed as someone spoke into the intercom to announce that his part of the Swan Hot Springs was over and a short intermission would commence. The production crew began preparing the stage for Act 3.

 

Yuri entered the dressing room he was given, heart still heaving inside of his chest. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, hair messy from the constant movement of his head and face dusted pink on the nose and cheeks from the intense vigor the dance demanded from him. He was alone now. There was no audience of a thousand people watching him, and no crowd of ballerinas behind him. Importantly, there was no Viktor, studying and breaking down his performance with that damned crease between his eyebrows.

 

He slammed his hands on the edge of the vanity, rattling the cosmetics placed on top of it. A can of hairspray to fell on the floor and rolled away from his feet. His head was bowed low and eyes squeezed shut, back hunched as his frustration was scratching him from the inside, desperate to escape. His nails dug into the vanity’s surface as one scratch at a time brought his barriers this close to being cut-through. The frustrations pierced through, and Yuri let out a scream.

 

“Shit!” He gripped the table harder, his shouts being contained by the four walls and shielding him from any prying eyes. A numb ache spread from the middle of his chest, a premonition of the competition’s results flashing at the back of his eyelids.

 

Why?

 

Why that out of all the people he could lose to, it had to be  _ him?  _ Why is it  _ him,  _ who Viktor will choose? What was he overlooking whenever he glanced at the man himself? What should he do to surpass whatever he has? Was there even anything to surpass? The danseur couldn’t even think of a proper inspiration for his dance. How could Yuri be so doubtful that he would win?

 

But he was there. He was on that stage. He had the moment, the chance, to prove to Viktor that he was the one to be chosen and now it was  _ gone. _

  
  


_ Knock knock. _

 

_ … _

 

_ … _

_... _

 

Yuri snapped out of his emotional state, turning to face the dressing room’s door in a fit of irritation. His hair flew up with the swift movement, and the feathers of his costume seemed to ruffle as if they were real. None of them are supposed to be down there at the minute. Most of them at least were running around backstage to complete the set for Act 3.

 

_ Knock knock _

 

The incessant knocks made him want to yell at whoever it was to go fuck themselves.

 

_ Knock knock.  _ “Yu~rio! It’s Viktor.”  _ Fuck. _

 

Yuri wasted no time to wrench the door open. “What the hell do you want?!”

 

He saw that Viktor’s eyebrows were raised a bit from his sudden appearance, but were brought back down as Viktor resumed to his usual charismatic persona. In his hands was the stupid dog tissue box he was carrying around the theater prior to the official start of Swan Hot Springs. “The intermission is ending in ten minutes! I wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t miss Yuuri’s performance,” Viktor explained himself pleasantly.

 

_ Tch. I don’t need this right now.  _ “Shouldn’t you be comforting that dumbass then? The pig is probably crying his eyes out in a cubicle like always,” Yuri growled at the much older man. “I don’t have time for this.”

 

“I’m just here to remind you so that you won’t forget,” Viktor was unaffected by Yuri’s vexation as he continued to smile the entire time. “You haven’t even changed out of your costume yet!”

 

“Go away then,” he hissed. “I don’t need you here.” He didn’t at all.

 

_ Did he? _

 

Out of all the people who had decided to come down to see him, it had to be Viktor. The universe was against him today. Yuri only glared at Viktor’s forehead, his eyes straining to not look any lower from the inside fear that once he makes eye contact with the man, all his feelings and bearings would become exposed. It would be as if he was back on that stage, examined under Viktor’s studious and all-knowing eyes like a specimen on clear glass.

 

Yuri pushed the door for it to close, but Viktor’s foot wedged between the doorframe and the door itself. Being stronger than the fifteen-year-old, he managed to pry the door back open immediately.  _ Well shit. _ It would be hard to get away now.

 

“Congratulations again, Yurio~!” Yuri was glad at least, that Viktor kept up with the smiling attitude. No matter how many fake charms he displayed to the crowds of fans and cameras, what Viktor never faked were sincere congratulations. “I love seeing you grow and change from who you were when you first arrived in Japan. Keep it up!” It was as if Viktor didn’t notice how suffocating the air became around Yuri.

 

“You’re going back to Russia with me, don’t forget it,” Yuri spat out, his stance becoming firmer and more upright as a surge of faux overconfidence passed through him. He reached out for the door handle, but Viktor pushed the door open even wider.

 

“You are unsatisfied with how you did today, aren’t you?” Viktor was casually leaning against the doorframe with one arm outstretched to hold the door; the other arm had the tissue box tucked into it. His smile never left his face, but Yuri was struck with surprise when Viktor’s forehead disappeared view and he was forced to make contact with his deep blue eyes. Yuri let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Yuri wanted nothing more at that moment other than that stupid mouth shut and locked closed.

 

“So what if I am?!” He snarled, more spit flying out of his mouth and his face contorted tightly as he still wore the Swan Queen dance costume with a masculine stance. His feet were at shoulder-distance, planted firm on the floor as his arms were tense at his sides, fists clenched and nails wedging into his palms. “There’s nothing to do about it now.”

 

“You’re still young Yurio, so you can’t expect to accomplish your best performance now.” Viktor laughed at his animalistic display as he stood upright, releasing the door. Yuri did not make a move to close it. “Besides,”

 

_ “You can dance even better, can’t you?” _

 

Yuri was struck, dumbfounded as the image of his grandfather’s kind face formulated before his eyes. The face bore a grin of pride as Yuri said the same words.  _ “I could dance even better, Grandpa!”  _ His shoulders slumped, his face relaxed and smoothening out. Yuri could visualize now, strangely, the taste of the spiced meat his grandfather filled the pirozhkis with.

 

“I’m going to change. Piss off or else,” Yuri closed the door with a click and unnerving softness, voice sounding distant as his body was washed over with indifference.

 

“Okay! See you upstairs,” Viktor’s voice was muffled by the hardwood, and he was gone.

 

Yuri began peeling off his costume and changing into his regular sportswear, noticing how his body had accumulated a thin line of sweat from the physical exertion. He passed a flock of ballerinas who greeted him with ‘congratulations’ on his way backstage, right in time before the intermission was finished and the theater lights had dimmed once again. He passed by Yuuri in full costume, embracing Viktor spontaneously in the middle of the chaos around them made up of moving props and costume racks. Yuri’s eyebrow twitched, the boy fully turning away from them as he made his way to find a spot to watch the next act.

 

Yuri wasn’t that proud of this performance, but he could live another day knowing that he could do better.

**Author's Note:**

> Hooo boy I've been conceptualizing this Ballet AU for so long //-and I watched Swan Lake, and read through so many ballet glossaries and how-tos so many times that I had lost count//. I'm going to be posting another two that would be Yuuri-centric and Viktuuri-centric but Yes. Hope you enjoyed, I'm @v1kturi on tumblr.
> 
> The Nishigoris still own Ice Castle, but Minako's studio is now a local ballet company run by her.
> 
> Some Ballet Terms Explained:  
> Danseur- Male Ballet Dancer  
> Pas de Deux- Basically a duet/pair dance  
> Variation- Ballet dance solo


End file.
